


The Players' Response to the Architect

by beepish



Category: Black Mirror, Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-08 13:51:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17387537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beepish/pseuds/beepish
Summary: “I’ve given you the knowledge. I’ve set you free. Do you understand?”(A) SAY SOMETHING  “.”  (B) KISS COLIN





	1. Dear Architect

“Now what?”

One corner of Colin’s lips twitched upwards, just barely. “Now we just wait a bit.”

Stefan leaned back on the couch, looking around the apartment. It was decorated with paintings and small sculptures, oozing the kind of style he’d come to learn was Colin Ritman’s trademark. Hyperaware of the thin square of — LSD? Acid? Wait, weren’t those the same thing? — _something_ sitting on the back of his tongue, Stefan did his best to appear relaxed, even though that was very much not the case. Every time he forced his shoulders to loosen up, he would have to do the same thing minutes later.

The record playing was a collection of mellow, upbeat vibrations. It filled the silence in lieu of conversation. Stefan had no idea what to say anyways, so he stayed quiet. It was a small blessing — he didn’t want to say anything that would embarrass him in front of his idol. Well, okay, maybe that was a strong word. Hero, maybe. Primary inspiration. Yeah, something like that. His eyes always flicked back to the bleached hair of the man sitting on the seat across from him. Given every chance, he studied the shape of Colin’s face, from the thin-framed glasses sitting on his flared nostrils to the arches in his eyebrows. Coupled with the everpresent purse of his lips, it gave him an intense look, like he was constantly ruminating on existentialism and had all the answers. He never knew how to picture the one who’d created so many of the games he loved, but he’d never imagined him to be so… to _look_ so…

Stefan swallowed, forcing himself to glance away when Colin squarely met his eyes. That mysterious intensity never dulled, just came into blinding focus. When he glanced back, Colin was still staring at him. He wasn’t the kind to shy away from eye contact. Did he feel it as tangibly as Stefan did? If he did, he showed no signs of it. Just maintained his steady gaze. Stefan decided he would, too. He stared right back, no longer hiding his scrutinization behind a furtive guise.

And soon, something did happen. And it felt more right than anything else he’d done since the morning he’d first pitched _Bandersnatch._

Things that should have been strange to see — the air moving around him, fractals appearing out of nowhere — gave the only moment of normality that Stefan had experienced in a long while. Trying to capture one on his finger did nothing. He watched as a slow smile spread across Colin’s face, only instigating one of his own in return. Colin started to chuckle. Had he ever heard Colin laugh before? He should laugh all the time. It was a beautiful sound.

Soon, Stefan rose from his seat, exploring the branches of color that danced through the air around him. It led him to the paintings on the far wall. The colors were moving, swirling in a hypnotic way that left him entranced. He turned around when Colin began to speak, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was staring off into the corner of the ceiling. Stefan tried to see who he was talking to, concentrating more on that than what he was actually saying.

Colin switched from the chair he was in to the couch Stefan had left. He was saying something about timelines and government conspiracies and actors. Stefan sat beside him, facing the right way as Colin faced him. The fractals had spun themselves around his fingers, following them through the air.

“Like Pac-Man,” Colin said. He was laying with his legs hanging over the back of the couch, raising his head from the seat to look right at him. “Do you know what PAC stands for?”

Stefan knew what Pac-Man was. This caught his attention again. He watched as Colin twisted his body like a cat, turning over and landing upright on his feet. His was a graceful sort of mania, and Stefan couldn’t tear his eyes away. Colin began on another tangent, one about metaphors, mazes, and demons in your head. None of the words made sense on their own, but the way Colin strung them together, it was as if nothing else in the world could be more true.

He turned away and pressed a hand to the window of the apartment. Stefan rose on clumsy feet, feeling as opposite from Colin as could be, but walking towards him nonetheless.

“If you listen closely, you can hear the numbers.” Colin turned and pinned Stefan with a look that mixed higher knowledge and clinical insanity so smoothly, there was no difference between them. “There’s a cosmic flowchart that dictates where you can and where you can’t go.”

In one motion, Colin removed his glasses, stepped towards him, and brought his hands to cup Stefan’s jaw. Both of his hands cradled his face, drawing him close enough to count the freckles on his cheeks.

“I’ve given you the knowledge,” Colin said. “I’ve set you free.”

Stefan looked between his two eyes, exponentially more interesting than dancing fractals or swirling paintings. He brought his hands up to Colin’s face, faltering just before connecting with the skin. Colin’s eyes were melting. It should have been terrifying, and it was, but it wasn’t.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

His hands were hot, electric. Stefan’s own hovered just by Colin’s face, the static between palm and cheek just as vibrant. Colin was waiting for an answer, he realized. He had to respond. He had to…

 

* * *

 

(A) SAY SOMETHING  “.” (B) KISS COLIN


	2. (A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (A) SAY SOMETHING

His tongue hung heavy and arid, but Stefan swallowed. “Maybe…” His hands fell to his sides, resolve and courage dying underneath a great weight. “I’m- I mean yes- yes… sort of.”

“I’ll show you what I mean.” Colin’s stole his hands away, replacing his glasses onto the concave of his nose bridge. “Come with me.”

And just like that, he turned away and slid open the balcony door. The air around Stefan was no longer buzzing, but as he followed Colin outside, it returned. The balcony wasn’t very large, so although they stood on opposite ends, the space of intimacy ballooned, swallowing each other whole.

“We’re on one path,” Colin said. “Right now, me and you. And how one path ends is immaterial. It’s how our decisions along that path affect the whole that matters. Do you believe me?”

A chuckle bubbled through Stefan. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’ll prove it. One of us,” he said, lifting one arm over the edge and pointing downwards, “is going over. Over there.”

The wind howled as Stefan looked over the edge, his smile falling as he remembered how high up this apartment was. He looked at the ground, and then backed off and looked at Colin. “You’d die— you’d _die.”_

“It wouldn’t matter,” Colin said, “because there are other timelines, Stefan. How many times have you watched Pac-Man die? Doesn’t bother him! He just… tries again.”

No. This wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t. He felt the edges of mind fraying, and yet, Colin seemed so… nonchalant. Bored, maybe. As if death was an everyday discussion at the breakfast table.

“So come on,” he said, holding Stefan’s gaze with a sort of playful curiosity one might have with a magnifying glass and ants. “Which one of us is jumping?”

 

* * *

 

(C) NEITHER “.”  (D) KISS COLIN, HARD


	3. (B)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (B) KISS COLIN

It was as if he hadn’t known he’d wanted to kiss Colin Ritman until he did.

Stefan’s hands came to rest on Colin’s cheeks, mirroring the exact pose Colin held him in. The only difference was that Stefan’s hands weren’t meant to ground, but to guide forward. Both of their eyes were closed by the time their lips met.

He certainly didn’t know Colin Ritman had wanted to kiss him until he kissed back.

It was long, slow, and over too soon. Colin was the one to pull away, resuming his act of keeping Stefan upright. His eyes were wide, unfamiliarly confused. Bright. Most importantly — solid.

“Well, _that’s_ new,” Colin said.

Stefan blinked, grinning. He normally felt self-conscious about his smile, but with Colin, he had no idea why. “New is… good, yeah?”

Even though they weren’t dripping from his face anymore, Stefan could swim in his eyes. There was something entirely endless about Colin’s stare. Like his perception, and maybe even his entire self, was without beginning or end. Or maybe it was the shine of awareness, how absolutely, crystal clear he could see. He wondered how much he knew. Maybe he could only see so well because he wore glasses, like Dad.

“Ah,” Colin said. “No, that’s not it.”

Stefan’s brows drew together, smile dimming. “What?”

Colin didn’t respond. His hands stayed on Stefan’s face as he glanced about, looking high, low, and everywhere inbetween. “It’s different, Stefan.”

“What is?” He would be pulling at his earlobe if his hands weren’t busy memorizing the ions of Colin’s skin.

“Don’t know if that’s possible…” Quickly, his gaze returned to Stefan’s. “Didn’t know this was possible, either. Everything’s different, Stefan. Well, most everything.”

He was sorry to miss the warmth of Colin’s palms on his cheeks. He watched him return to the couch, sitting down and folding his hands underneath his chin. He was muttering something else the entire time, too quietly for Stefan to hear.

“You’d like me to speak up?” he said, his back straightening. “Stefan, what did you want to do just now? Was that it?”

Stefan moved slowly towards the couch, wondering what he did wrong. Did he overstep? Oh, shit, was this a huge mistake? “I, I’m not sure if… Are— What’re you asking? I’m sorry, I—”

One of Colin’s hands shot out, taking hold of Stefan’s and pulling him the rest of the way forward. He stumbled, caught himself on his knees, steadied by both of Colin’s hands enveloping his own. His head hung low, but his focus never left Stefan. “Was that the choice you wanted?”

“Yes,” Stefan spat out, staring right into Colin’s eyes. “Yes, I wanted that— that one. Did you… Did I—”

“And what do you want now?” The urgency in his voice was alarming. If something had Colin worried, you’d better be, too. “You need to decide. What do you want now, Stefan?”

 

* * *

 

(E) ESCAPE WITH COLIN  “.” (F) FUCK COLIN


	4. (C)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (C) NEITHER

“Neither of us,” Stefan said. “I’m not gonna— I can’t let you… This isn’t going to happen. It won’t.”

The coy smile lurking in the undercurrent of Colin’s expression vanished. He tilted his chin, expression turning to a more perturbed version of his usual frown. “You’ve never said that one before. There are only two options, Stefan, you have to—”

“I did choose,” he said. “There  _ were _ two, but they were both… How do you…”

Something clicked in Colin’s eyes, something bright and curious. The very next second, he closed their distance in two strides, barely giving Stefan any warning before pressing him into the railing of the balcony and kissing him fervently. His hands began at Stefan’s jaw before traveling to the back of his neck and his shoulder. In the time Stefan adjusted, his arms found their place around Colin’s side and on his chest. Colin pulled back briefly, searching Stefan’s eyes for answers to some question that they must have answered, because he dove back in once again, bringing the hand on his neck to his cheek. He ran his thumb along the ridge of Stefan’s cheekbone as they made out in the night chill.

All too soon, Colin pulled away again, his thumb still stroking Stefan’s cheek. “We’re off the path, Stefan,” he said. “Or on a new one, maybe. Something’s changed, can you feel it?”

Stefan only nodded silently, his breath stolen from him completely.

“There’s someone else,” Colin said, that wild mania rekindling. “They’re toying right now, but they’re giving us a chance. To be more than plot points and neat concepts. They want to see how far they can go, and they let me kiss you. I wonder if—”

“I wanted to kiss you,” Stefan blurted out, grabbing Colin’s hand on his cheek. “Twice, now, but I couldn’t. I  _ felt _ it, like I could, but I... didn’t.”

The furrow returned to Colin’s brow as he brought his other hand up, resting it again on Stefan’s jawline. “Why are they dragging it out, then...” he murmured. “What do they want? A reward for their patience?”

Stefan shook his head, still high and comprehending everything and nothing all at once. All he knew is that Colin’s face was still so close to his, it didn’t feel real. “You… you said it didn’t matter which one of us died. That there were other timelines.”

Colin tilted his head, staring into Stefan’s eyes.

“What if,” he said, “that’s bullshit? What if all of them count for something?”

Slowly, Colin rested his forehead against Stefan’s, letting out a sigh through his nose. After a moment, he stepped back, leaving Stefan with a shiver from the breeze. “Let’s see if it’s you saying that or if you’re a mouthpiece. If I told you I was going to leave Tuckersoft and start my own computer game company, would you join me?”

Stefan blinked. “Are you being serious?”

“As much as I can be.” His expression held a steely resolve, daring and shielded. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about long before you showed up in the office, but I never could. If I did, I wouldn’t have met you, and that would have been… unworkable, I suppose.”

He leaned back against the railing, overwhelmed by the offer. Not only would he get to work alongside Colin, he would be his  _ partner, _ maybe in more than one sense. They would be their own bosses, they could combine their skill and their madness, they could develop games this generation had never seen yet. It was amazing. Incredible. It was…

“Too... good to be true.” Stefan gripped the railing, trying to calm the blood rushing through his ears. “How do I know if accepting is the wrong path again or not?”

“You don’t, mate.” Colin stuck his hand out, a gust of wind tussling his loose button-up collar. His lips formed a tight smile. “But that hasn’t stopped you yet.”

 

* * *

 

 

(G) ACCEPT  "." (H) REFUSE


	5. (D)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (D) KISS COLIN, HARD

His body snapped free, reigned under his will. Stefan stumbled over, as if rushing before time ran out, took hold of Colin’s collar, and crashed his mouth against his. Their teeth clacked audibly, even painfully, but he didn’t stop. Especially not when Colin pressed forward, absorbing his urgency, pulling him even closer with hasty hands.

Stefan moved on instinct, melding his lips with Colin’s in a way that sparked every circuit inside him. His lips traveled across his cheek, past his jawline, and dipped into Colin’s neck. He’d been a starved man his whole life, and the one who let out a breathy groan beneath his lips was his first meal.

He stopped when he ran out of breath, feeling on the verge of lightheadedness, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Colin’s sternum. A hand carded through his hair as Colin lifted his chin to rest atop his head.

Then, Stefan laughed, moving his head back to meet Colin’s eyes. “Sorry, I just… I didn’t want to miss my chance again.”

Colin frowned. “There was another path where you didn’t? That’s pointless, why put it off?” After a beat he blinked. He smiled with a dawning conclusion. “They didn’t know they’d get another chance. Or they're keen on integrity.”

Stefan traced his fingers down Colin’s jaw. He was still smiling. “I don’t care. It’s the first time I’ve felt… well, I wouldn’t say in control, but…”

“But?”

He hesitated, taking the time to piece together the words just right in his head. “But like… if whoever _is_ controlling me is… on my side? For once?”

A smile was clearly trying to break its way onto Colin’s face, but the way his brow tensed suggested a level of stress unprecedented even to him. Stefan could almost see the millions of thoughts zipping in his head, hinted at by a certain flash in his eyes. Colin looked up out of the corner of his eye, moving his head ever so slightly as to keep his glance inconspicuous. His shoulders lost a little of their tension as he returned his attention to Stefan.

“Don’t know why you don’t smile like that more often.” His hands went to Colin’s shoulders, gripping them with steady hands. Colin’s cheeks began to burn, signalling what was sure to be an embarrassing flush spreading across them. “But why this time? Are you sure they’ll stay on your side?”

A particularly chilly gust cooled the sweat on his forehead. He opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it, finding he didn’t know how. A nauseous sort of feeling found a home in his throat. He hadn’t gone far enough in this path yet to have spoken to the spirit. He didn’t know their intentions, and he didn’t know their endgame.

But this was different. Something in the game has changed. While he couldn’t be sure of the consequences, he was sure he’d be fine never knowing.

“Stefan?” Colin said. “Where do we go from here, mate? You have to decide _something.”_

“What… what was the question?”

He just shook his head, shrugging and raising his eyebrows. “Is what you want what they want, or vice versa?”

He didn’t know. He knew he didn’t know. The uncertainty, the open-endedness is what scared him. It split the roots, expanded the whole. It meant more bad ends and more failed games.

And more good ends and more successful games.

And whatever else their terrifying creativity could muster.

Stefan raised his eyes to the sky, another gust of wind howling in his ear.

"What do I do?"

 

* * *

 

(X) ______ “.” (Y) ______

OPEN POLL IN THE COMMENTS:  
ADD ONE OPTION, VOTE FOR ONE OTHER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To participate in the open poll in the comments of this chapter, you may add one option by posting a comment (begin with “OPTION XY:”) and you may make one vote for any option but your own by replying to it (begin with “VOTE: [commenter’s username]). Please avoid adding existing options.  
> Poll will close exactly one week to the day that the last ending is posted. Two winners will be picked - Author’s Choice and Popular Majority.


	6. (E)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (E) ESCAPE WITH COLIN

“I want… I want to leave. With you.”

Colin squinted. “And go where?”

“Anywhere. Away from here.” He captured one of Colin’s hands in his own, squeezing gently. “But with you.”

“Leave it all behind.” The soft look in his eyes lacked the sort of cool exterior Stefan was used to seeing. “Sounds a lot like giving up to me.”

Stefan moved to sit next to a clearly sobered Colin. He couldn’t quite say the same for himself, but that was fine. “It’s not quitting. It’s… just not playing. I don’t want to do it anymore. The game was rigged before it even started. What’s the point if there’s no winning?”

 _“How_ is this happening?” Colin muttered. “You aren’t supposed to be _able_ to leave. _We_ aren’t. You have to finish playing, because playing _is_ the whole point.”

Stefan swallowed, looking at Colin. He was giving the whole room nervous glances, as if expecting something to interrupt them. But nothing came, and nothing happened, and nothing was wrong, and nothing was to be won. Not every spirit enjoyed watching a nightmare world unfold, again and again, with only easter eggs and secret endings lying in wait, none of them more satisfying than the other.

Not every spirit agreed with the architect. Maybe they just wanted to give chances, to see people happy, even people who existed in another world. In as much as they existed at all.

Colin gave a sudden chuckle, biting his tongue with his back molars through a wide grin. “Alright.” He looked at Stefan, their hands still entwined, and squeezed back. “Let’s go, then.”

 

* * *

 

Attempts to find the missing Colin Ritman grew half-hearted at best, and then disappeared altogether. His girlfriend, Kitty, gave no response besides a tight-lipped smile when asked if she knew where he went.

At the same time, an aspiring coworker of his, Stefan Butler, also mysteriously vanished without a word. The two had no apparent outside connections to each other, but word that their disappearances were linked ran through a number of social circles.

Time went on, muddying the memory of their existence day by day. Their case files grew colder, and with no signs of foul play, were thrown out altogether.

In a small record shop in Missoula, Montana, no one questioned the English accent of the newest employee. No one looked twice at the new guy working in a tiny bookstore up the street.

Besides, they only had eyes for each other.


End file.
